Out of the Closet and into the…
by silenus
Summary: What would you do if you were trapped in the closet for an unknown period of time with the Boy Who Lived? What would Draco do? H/D slash.


Title: **Out of the Closet and into the… **  
Author: silenus (silenusnz@hotmail.com)   
Rating: PG-13   
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters belong to JK Rowling . I'm just borrowing them for a moment.   
Pairing: slash of the H/D variety.  
Summary: What would you do if you were trapped in the closet for an unknown period of time with the Boy Who Lived? What would Draco do? H/D slash.   
  
A/N: just taking a small break from my other fics. Don't worry I haven't forgotten them! 

In hindsight he supposed that choosing to hide in a closet above the left staircase on the third wing might not have been the best idea. Especially since said closet had the annoying habit of routinely disappearing and appearing at random intervals. Of course he didn't _know_ that at the time, but once it's all said and done choosing that particular location at that particular time was definitely a _bad _idea. Then again, in hindsight he probably shouldn't have agreed to play this stupid game in the first place. They didn't need the points that badly! 

Damn, damn, and double damn! Things like this just _do not_ happen to Malfoy's. It was a rule, he was sure of it and once he got out of this mess someone would pay. 

And it was completely Dumbledore's fault. Completely. For the first time in Hogwarts history the Hufflepuffs were actually leading in house points, Ravenclaw following closely behind. And then Dumbledore suggested, actually had the _nerve _to suggest that they play 'Hide and Seek'. Hide and Seek! Can you believe it! Like they were five year olds! And of course the Gryffindor's had leapt at the chance to even the playing field which meant that Slytherin had no choice but to play as well. 

Stupid Gryffindors! 

But to suggest Hide and Seek? _What_ had that man been thinking! 

Apparently, or at least according to the gospel that is Granger (who quoted large sections of _Hogwarts: A History_ to the Weasel and anyone else who would listen) Hogwarts houses used to play the game frequently in the past. It was a way for students who weren't terribly gifted academically or on the quidditch pitch to earn points for their house. Well bully for them! 

Student's names were chosen randomly from the Sorting Hat, who at the very least seemed to be enjoying the extra attention he was getting, and they'd then search the school until they found another student and together they would continue searching the castle. The last student remaining would win their house two hundred points. No rooms (save private quarters, house areas, and the staff room) were out of bounds. The only rules were that you had to at least _attempt_ to hide (and Draco had been rather disgruntled to find that no, standing in plain sight was _not_ hiding) and you had to remain inside the castle at all times. 

Stupid, stupid game. 

And the fact that he'd actually agreed to play the game would certainly explain his current position. Karma. Yip, he was trapped in a closet on the third floor with Harry Potter. 

In the dark. 

Alone. 

With Harry _sodding_ Potter. 

He was really going to have hurt someone over this. 

Like all life-altering and world-shattering moments it had started out innocuous enough. The closet had certainly seemed like a suitable place to hide. It was sufficiently far enough away from where Susan Bones was starting her search to at least not be the first person found and was fed up enough with the whole scenario to just chose the first place that looked semi-decent. 

Well, how was he supposed to know?

He'd only had enough time for a quick glimpse of startled green eyes behind small wiry frames and an arm reaching forward before the door audibly clicked shut behind him. Damn.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm now trapped in the closet?" 

The question was supposed to be rhetorical, but Potter never could leave it well enough alone, could he? "Well, gee Malfoy, that would be because we are," his sarcastic reply echoing strangely in the small quarters. And that just didn't fit right. It felt as if he was surrounded by Potter, his voice bouncing off all four walls making him appear _everywhere_. It felt like all his senses were now attuned to this one other person. Potter. Draco could hear his steady, rhythmic breathing and a faint smell of nutmeg and cinnamon, which must have been, he supposed, courtesy of the pre-game feast. 

He was beginning to feel slightly claustrophobic. 

"Perhaps for you Potter," and would have sneered except that the effect would be completely lost in the darkness. And he wasn't about to waste a perfectly good sneer on someone who couldn't see it. He reached down to where he usually kept his wand, his right robe pocket, but instead of feeling the customary length, patted air. Argh. He'd left his wand next to his bed after transfiguring one of Pansy's pillows into a large spider. It had been worth it though, the look on Pansy's face. Absolutely priceless! 

"Lost something Malfoy?" And only Potter could actually manage to sound insufferable while sitting on the floor of a storage closet in the dark. At least he thought it was a storage closet. Oh god! He could be anywhere! _Calm down Draco. _Hyperventilation is _not_ an option here.****

As a last resort he grasped the wall behind him looking for the doorknob. _Just great! Just absolutely perfect. _

"Would you care to explain to me where exactly the door is Potter?" 

"How should I know?" 

"Oh I don't know! I got the impression you were acquainted with closets. Or was it cupboards?" and was satisfied when he registered the other boys sharp intake of breath. Ha! Direct hit. Draco one, Potter nil.

"What, nothing to say Potter?" 

And like every other instance this year Draco watched (or rather listened) as Harry failed to accept the challenge. "Don't worry Malfoy. The door will be back soon enough. And before you ask, the door's locked and no I don't have my wand. You may as well sit down, relax, and wait for someone to find us." It really was no fun if you were playing with someone who kept changing the rules.

"Just wait Potter?" 

"Yip. Just wait." 

"For someone to find us?" 

"Of course! You do remember that we're playing a game here don't you Malfoy? You know, 'Hide and Seek'? This is the hiding part, and now we just have to wait until someone finds us." 

"And just how long do you think that will take?" 

"Who knows? Hermione said that the last game played at Hogwarts lasted for four days." 

"Four days! I can't stay in here for four days! I'll starve, I'll… I'll…" 

"Relax Malfoy, I doubt we'll be in here that long. And besides you may not have noticed, but this is a _food_ cupboard. I doubt we'll starve." 

Food? A food cupboard on the third floor? "Only at Hogwarts." Hey, I wonder what type of food it is? 

"Hey, watch it! That's my foot!" 

And that's how quickly it hit home. He was in a room, no, a cupboard, hell, practically a 6 x 4 cell and could barely move without coming into some sort of (unwelcome) contact with Potter. 

Urgh! He did not need this. 

At all. 

He was (essentially) a good kid wasn't he? He should be doing his potions homework, or reading that book he'd mean meaning to read since well, forever, "_The Ambition of Slytherins: a Historical Guide of Notable Slytherins and their Achievements._" He'd even prefer sleeping to… to this!

He was stuck in a closet with Potter! With Potter of all people! If only it was someone else, anyone else, this could have been enjoyable. It certainly had potential and his mind was quickly engaged in displaying a virtual movie of possible replacements for Potter. Hey, who knew Justin would look so good in leather pants? Four days would just fly by! He might even have suggested a period of extended play. But no, he was stuck in a potentially raunchy situation with Saint Potter. Well, this certainly wasn't going to help his reputation, though Draco surmised it would probably do a thing or two for Potters. 

As if reading his thoughts, Potter said "this isn't exactly a picnic for me either Malfoy." 

Huh. Thanks for the ego boast. "You should be so lucky to be stuck in a here with me Potter. I'm the one who feels like pulling teeth."

"By all means, don't let me stop you. Just keep the screaming to a minimum." 

Argh! Potter could be so infuriating, _kinky_, but definitely infuriating, his mundane chatter only accentuating the fact that he was in a small enclosed space with absolutely no light by which to see the other person, and he was practically still standing in the same spot since he'd entered the room. His legs were stiff from the lack of movement, and he was feeling oddly self-conscious as if he was on display for Potter. Which was absolutely crazy of course, since Potter couldn't _see anything_. Using his hands on the back wall for leverage, he carefully maneuvered himself down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, his legs spread out with his left foot touching what felt like Potter's hip. Maybe this wouldn't be such a waste of closet time after all. 

"Keep your feet to yourself Malfoy." Or maybe it was. 

"Just…just. Shut it Potter. This is unbearable enough as it is. Just do us both a favour and shut up. I don't care if it's for the next four hours or the next four days. Just… argh… don't talk." 

"Wow. The rumours were true. 

_Rumours!?_ "What rumours?"

"You're not exactly known for your finer points of conversation Malfoy." 

"Potter? Are you listening to me? This room is too small for us to get into a fight without doing considerable damage to each other _and_ whatever foodstuffs Hogwarts is stupid enough to store on the third floor. So just don't push me." 

"Fine." 

"Fine." 

And that was half an hour ago and he was currently sitting on the floor with an ache in his back that was threatening to continue the mind-numbing pain to enormous proportions. In direct contradiction to his initial plan of ignoring Potters' presence as much as possible, the combination of the pitch black darkness and general confinement only made everything that much more obvious. Instead of ignoring him, his entire presence seemed to be screaming out for attention and all he could feel, all he could sense, was Potter. _Typical._ He swore he could actually feel the heat from Potter's body against his leg, radiating upwards until he felt unbearably hot all over. Potter, unlike Draco, had no reservations about moving about and every shift he made either bought him into close physical contact with Draco himself, or he shifted away and Draco felt the loss just as keenly as if Potter was pressed up right against him. Which he wasn't, so he wasn't going to think about it thank you very much. Focus on something else! His breathing! His breathing was just. So. Loud. Draco was sure he could hear it, feel it even where he was sitting, directly across from the younger boy.

"Potter, would you just quit it! Stop breathing so damn loud!" 

"Wh… huh?" 

From the sounds of it Potter had just woken up (_he_ was sleeping?), and was a bit groggy if his hand on Draco's ankle to steady himself was any indication. 

"I said stop breathing so loud. And hands. Off." If I can't touch, _you can't touch_. 

"Oh what? Sorry." And the hand was gone. Draco wasn't sure whether to be relieved or upset at the loss. "And I'm not breathing too loud Malfoy. Stop being a prat." 

"You're right. You weren't breathing loud, you were _snoring_." 

"I didn't… I don't snore Malfoy." 

"Are you sure about that Potter?" Yay. Back in familiar territory. He could do this. Bait Potter. Get under his skin. And he would stop entertaining what his apparently over-sexed imagination was currently entertaining. He knew for certain that Potter didn't snore, hell if he hadn't spoken and woken him up he wouldn't even have known that the other boy was asleep, but it was generally a sure-fire way to rile someone up. Then again, he was beginning to think that everyone snored! After spending six years (and various sleep-overs) sleeping in the same dorm room as Vin and Greg (and he had never been so happy as when he was made a prefect and finally got his own room) is that a night he didn't have to use a silencing charm to alleviate the noise from _someone _snoring was a rare and blessed event. 

"Completely sure Malfoy. Ron would have told me." He did sound sure too, cocky bastard. 

"You're sleeping with Weasley now are you Potter? I thought you'd have better taste than that." He did, that's why he didn't pick you. _Shut up! _

"In the _dorms_ Malfoy. God, sometimes you can be so gross." 

"He's your friend Potter. You're supposed to like him." 

"I do." 

"Well, then, what's the problem?" 

"But, not like that! He's practically my brother." _Good to know._

Urgh. This floor was uncomfortable. His back was killing him, not to mention the state his arse was in right now. Yip, definitely time for a change of position. 

Draco quickly found out that it was one thing to sit unmoving for over an hour (or at least what he thought was an hour, having absolutely no way of being able to tell the time) and be considerably sore because of said not moving, but it was quite another to actually get up and move around, using the stiff muscles. Standing up he felt, and quite loudly heard, several bones pop. However, the pure pleasure felt from being able to stretch and move his aching muscles actually had him moaning with relief. And he'd completely forgotten whatever it was he'd been discussing with Potter. 

"Whatever. Just shift over would you, I'm going to sit down." Because even though standing had been pure pleasure he was beginning to feel slightly dizzy and falling on Potter is not exactly what any sane person would call a _good thing._ Sanity's probably over-rated anyway. 

He heard a soft rustling followed by feet scraping on the floor that he interpreted as Potter shifting over. _That's a good boy_. Draco turned and cautiously walked towards the wall where the other boy had positioned himself, both hands stretched outwards to stop himself from walking into anything. When his hands met shelves he swung around on the balls of his feet and wedged himself into the tight space between Potter and the wall, his knees drawn up under his chin. 

As soon as he leaned back he realised why Potter had been able to fall asleep so quickly. It was, there were no other words for it, absolutely luxurious. There was some sort of sponge mattress recessed into that part of the wall and curled slightly onto the floor so that Draco found not only was his back cushioned against the protruding shelves, but so was his arse. After sitting on the cold stone floor for an hour this was just heaven. Wonderful. He snuggled gratefully back into the mattress, not particularly caring that his continued movement was burying him closer to Harry's body next to him, and Harry certainly wasn't doing anything to stop him.

"It was on one of the top shelves. I bought it down to sit on." 

Huh? Oh the mattress. "Right Potter. And you didn't think to tell me?" 

"I seem to remember a certain someone telling me to, and I quote, 'shut it'." 

"Hmm." Way to go Draco! Did I mention stupidity runs in my family? "And just how long had you been in here before I…" 

"Joined me in the cupboard?" 

"Not exactly what I was going to say, but yeah." 

"About ten minutes or so. I couldn't get out so I just figured I'd wait it out in relative comfort." 

"Oh sure. I can see the headlines now, "Boy Who Lived Foiled By Cupboard.""

"You're in here too Malfoy." Good point. "And I'd hardly say foiled. We'll be found eventually. And for the most part I was kind of enjoying the quiet." 

"Potter you weren't appreciating the quiet. You were sleeping." 

"Whatever Malfoy. You know what I mean." 

And surprisingly enough, Draco did. It was hard enough for him to get some alone time, not to mention what it must be for Hogwarts Golden Boy, whose universal popularity was evidently only rivaled by chocolate. Perhaps that's why Dumbledore suggested this ridiculous game in the first place, maybe he was the only one who recognised the strain the other boy must have been under. Perhaps he and Potter weren't too different after all.

"So what do you want to do?" 

"What exactly are you suggesting Potter?" 

There must have been a slight leer to his voice, or something that would explain Potter's answer. Because he certainly hadn't been thinking _that!_ He hadn't dammit! Well maybe a little, but in Draco's defense Potter had the innuendo-receptivity of a hamster, he certainly wasn't supposed to pick up on it! "What! No Malfoy! God, is that all you think about?" 

Oh sure, I'm stuck in a closet with an extremely good-looking boy, and I'm supposed to _not be _thinking about it. "I'm a seventeen year old boy. Of course that's the only thing I think about." 

"Yeah, well, I don't swing… you know, your way." 

"My way?" Was that an insult? A faux pah? He likes boys? Oh crap, he really does hate me. Still, if it had been said by anyone else Draco would have thought they sounded adorably flustered. As it was he was starting to get irritated and not a little self-deprecating. "I'm not coming on to you, you prat. I have better taste than that." 

"Sure Malfoy, that's why there was that rumour going round about you and Terry Boot. You're all class."

Oh shit! People knew about that? He was absolutely going to kill Terry for blabbing. That is, if he ever got out of the closet in one piece. 

"That's right Potter, I am. And you would be so lucky to swing my way." Damn it! Change the subject already. _Please._

"Hmm. Forgive me if I chose to disagree." 

"Well what exactly were you suggesting then, a rousing game of 'eye spy' in the _dark? Or how about exploding snap without the cards, or I know, Wizard's Chess except I seem to have left my chessboard in my other pants. Or we could fall back on the old favourite of mine, truth or dare?" Sarcasm thy name is Draco. _

"Yeah sure Malfoy because I'm going to tell you all my secrets." 

"It was your idea remember." 

"Well, um, we could…" and then Draco had the sudden and unpleasant(?) sensation of Harry leaning back into him, his entire weight pressed onto his side as he reached around and started fumbling with something on the shelves behind them. "Eat!" and Draco was singularly startled when he felt several articles being dropped onto his lap once Harry had shifted back around. 

He curiously picked up one of the packets, holding it between his two fingers. "What is it?" 

"Chocolate Frogs." 

_Oh, Harry, you gave me chocolate! _"How do you know?" 

"I was curious, I've already had a few. 

Typical Gryffindor. Eat first, ask questions later. Not that Draco was particularly concerned at this point, and happily spent the next few minutes devouring the ten or so chocolate frogs Harry had deposited on his lap. "Hmm, thanks." 

"What?" 

"What what?" he paused in the process of licking one packet clean and quickly chucked it aside in case Potter had seen him doing something that was so obviously crass. But of course he _couldn't _see it, it being completely dark and devoid of all light. _Thinking is apparently another underrated skill for those in close proximity to hunky Gryffindors. _

"You said thanks!" 

"I have been known to have said thanks a time or two." He _was_ civilised for crying out loud! 

"Not to me you haven't" 

"Yes well, you've never given me chocolate frogs before have you?" 

Potter laughed, a loud clear sound that reverberated throughout the small room. Draco suppressed a rather unmanly squeak of surprise at the sound. "You mean that's it! That's all I had to do for you to be nice to me. Give you chocolate?" 

He wanted me to be nice to him? "I wasn't being nice Potter, I was being courteous. But yes, in my opinion, chocolate is a vital ingredient in all peace-making endeavours." He considered groping towards Harry on the off chance that he had some chocolate frogs left, but the thought of what he could mistakenly grab, made him quickly reconsider _that_ particular idea. And be incredibly thankful that it was dark and Potter couldn't see him blush. 

No more chocolate frogs for him then. 

"You want some more don't you Malfoy?" Does Snape hate Gryffindors? Of course he wanted more chocolate, but Potter certainly didn't have to sound so happy about it? 

"I wouldn't say no to more if he have some." 

Potter laughed again, and Draco couldn't help but notice how much the sound uniquely suited him. "You're like a little kid in a candy store. Did you eat all yours already?" 

_Of course, hence the asking Potter! _"Yes." 

"Well, here," and Draco supposed that Potter must have given him some from his own supply because he didn't shift back around to the shelves. After already devouring ten chocolate frogs, he didn't want to seem too greedy in front of Potter, so he left them on his lap, to eat later. Which Potter seemed to find simply hilarious. "Not eating now?"

"I'm saving them." 

"You really are something else Malfoy." 

"Why thank you Potter. How good of you to notice." 

"I can't believe I'm saying this but you're not so bad when your stuck in a cupboard sedated with chocolate." 

"Hmm, tell anyone that and I'll make your life miserable." 

Draco had the distinct impression that he was smiling. "What? More than usual?" 

"Yes. I shall unleash a reign of terror the likes of which you have never seen." 

"Well, we can't have that now can we. Your secret is save with me" and delivered that with perfect aplomb. "Shake on it?" _Shake on it?_ He felt Potter shift a little so that he was now facing him, or at least as much as possible in the tight space. _He wanted to shake hands?_ It seemed trivial, something Potter would do with his friends, not with him, Draco Malfoy his rival these past seven years, the proverbial fly in his ointment if you will. And now they were shaking hands? 

"Do me a favour Potter. For the moment lets just forget that you hate me and I hate you and oh, I don't know…" 

"Pretend we're friends?" 

"I wouldn't go that far. Perhaps indifferent acquaintances." Because I'm definitely the paragon of all things indifferent! Sitting here and trying not to think about ravishing my partner in the closet.

"Sure Malfoy. Why not?" _Why not indeed. _

And they shook hands. A momentous occasion that no one actually saw, least of all the two participants. Draco thought that he might have held on a little too long, shared the contact for a fraction more than necessary, because Harry quickly pulled his hand away, as if he'd been burned. 

"Right." 

There was something so seductive about being completely in the dark with Potter. So confusing, and yet at the same time their relationship was stripped to its most vital components. So many of their encounters in the past were based on a physical reaction to something; a smirk, an eyebrow raised in challenge. Draco had become so used to reacting to these minute physicality's of Potters that now sitting in complete darkness he was finding it hard to not distinguish between the two versions of Harry: the Harry Potter he could see, and the Harry Potter he could feel. He could no longer see the shock of untidy black hair or the brilliant green eyes, the visage imprinted so often in his mind, and everything about the other boy was taken apart and filed down to two things: his voice and his presence. Draco could feel him even now, like an extension of himself, and yet at the same time, a polar opposite. Good and bad. Light and dark. Name your cliché and chances are it would cover them. And his voice! Draco wondered why it was he'd never paid any real attention to his voice before. It was light and quite mellifluous, a warm voice, a welcoming voice. At once quietly self-mocking and yet held a small amount of bemusement at something. _Perhaps at him? _

It was playful. He wondered just how many people truly knew this boy, because he really didn't understand Harry Potter at all. 

"So what do you plan to do when school finishes?" 

Nope. A complete mystery this boy was. If he had any say in the matter he'd make Potter one of the Wonders of the World. Draco considered ignoring the question, _what's it to him anyway?_, before remembering that he'd given an oath (of sorts) and would have replied before realising something. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it." 

"Me either. It was just kind of get through the year, one moment at a time. The future was this huge unknown that I didn't even want to think about."

"No plans to be an Auror then?" For really, that's how Draco had always thought of him, if he'd ever pictured the two of them together in the future. Which was frighteningly often if he was being honest with himself. Potter the Auror. Champion of all that's good and right in the world. Killing the bad guys and rescuing kittens from trees. Simplistic perhaps, but Draco would have bet his entire fortune that he was right. 

And it was a good thing he didn't because he was quickly corrected when Harry answered, "Oh god no! I couldn't think of anything worse" with a small cough that might have been interpreted as a chuckle. _How cute._

"Really? I thought that's what you wanted?" 

"Yeah, so did I. But I grew out of it. I grew out of a lot of things." 

Didn't everyone? It was strange to think that he had kept this rivalry going so long when everything else (even his feelings for Potter himself) had been changing around them, shifting, altering until it was something else. Something unrecognisable. 

"How long do you think we've been in here?" 

"A few hours maybe. It's hard to tell." 

He'd thought about what Potter might be like if he'd ever managed to get him alone, without the company of the Weasel or Granger. But the reality was something else completely. He couldn't say he was seeing his relationship with Potter in a whole new light, because he wasn't. Their relationship was exactly the same as it had been for quite some time. Since Draco had finally grown up and realised that Harry Potter was not quite the insufferable prat that Draco had once thought he was, and jealously was really a very pitiful motivation for his actions. But he'd continued with these motions, provoking, taunting the Gryffindor because after all, that's what he did. That's the role he'd assigned himself to play. 

And as the old adage goes 'if you're going to do something properly…. 

But never for a single second did he consider that perhaps Potter felt the same. That he was just as sick of playing these games as Draco. Just as sick of being the same person everyone had pegged him out to be since he was eleven. 

Until now. 

_What the hell Draco. _"Potter, would you do me another favour?" 

_Go for it. _"That depends. What is it?" 

"Never, ever tell anyone what I'm about to do," and he reached forward feeling for Harry's face in the dark, both of his hands cupping his Harry's cheeks gently, bringing their faces close together. He could almost picture his face. His lips. With Harry's shocked breath gently ghosting over his skin, Draco closed the distance and did the one thing he thought he'd never in a million years be able to do. 

He kissed Harry Potter. 

**------ **

**Please review! At the moment this is just a one-shot. Review and let me know whether you think I should do more.**


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